By Moonlight
by KindOfAGirl
Summary: Insomnia makes for long thoughts of airships and friends. Baralai/Paine.


Nobody else ever gets to see her like this. Nobody else sees her with moonlight glowing silver in her hair, making her skin look like marble, glinting off her necklace (she never takes it off, not even when she sleeps). Nobody else gets to see the way she sheds her defenses when she knows she's safe. She changes completely when she does that – her eyes, her posture, everything gets softer and it takes my breath away. There's only a few other people who've heard her laugh, seen her smile like she really means it. Most of those people are on this ship with us.

I still can't believe Gippal pulled this off, but the four of us finally got our damn airship. Of course, since Gippal did the building and designing, she's bright purple, but she's _ours_. We christened her Kelvin, or rather, Nooj decided that was her name and pulled the "I'm captain, what I say goes" card to get us to go along with it. She's a little smaller than Celsius, which is just fine because I've heard what that thing costs to run and it's a little frightening. The bridge is wide open and cased in glass, and you can see out to the horizon in every direction. Nooj has his little lounge up near the top, with a big slouchy armchair and a fancy commsphere setup and a desk that Gippal made him promise will never have anything more serious than newspapers and coffee cups on it. Paine calls it his lair, which is usually good for a laugh if Nooj hears her. The nav panel is such a wonder of technology that I'm not completely sure Gippal came up with it on his own; I swear there's a mind in there, and when nobody's listening or when she's being stubborn, I call her Kelli. The pilot's pit is pretty much custom made for Paine – sleek black leather seat, chrome on the controls, perfect spot for her to kick her feet up on the panel and a drink holder at her elbow. She won't admit it to anyone else, but she absolutely loves flying this baby. She says it makes her feel more alive than battle ever did. Gip doesn't have any "spot" of his own in here, unless you count the somewhat out of place couch just under the stairs. He's usually knee-deep in engine parts anyway, and happy as a clam about it. He's always tinkering with something down in the belly of the ship – I think the only reason she's not running on nuclear power or something like that yet is that Paine would have his head on a spike if he messed up "her" ship. Nooj is the captain by general consent, but the ship belongs to the woman who flies her.

Paine stirs in her sleep next to me, one hand up near her face, the other on her stomach. One of the only things I don't like about our suites in Luca is that there are far too few windows – I don't know why, but she looks even more beautiful than usual in natural light. Not long after she and the other girls knocked the stuffing out of Vegnagun and Shuyin, which still boggles me when I think about it too hard, the four of us all relocated to Luca. I think the excuse I gave to the old men in Bevelle was that it was supposed to be easier for us to work together if we were all in one spot, and that I'd still be in touch with them as often as possible. The real reason was that now that we knew what had gone wrong, and that we weren't going to be in danger from being together again, none of us could stand the idea of being apart anymore. My best friends, my brothers, and the most incredible, impossible woman I'd ever met – I didn't feel whole without them. But even living in the same place doesn't mean we get to spend time together, not with the work of running most of Spira. So every couple weeks we all hand the papers and the stamps and all that other shoopuf shit to someone who's smart enough to not ruin things if left to their own devices for a week, and run off to the spot north of town where Paine hides the ship – don't ask me how she manages to hide something this large, and bright purple to boot – and we just run away for a while.

There's a map of Spira hanging in the bridge, and one of the first things we do, after prying Paine away from her giddy excitement and her smooth, shiny controls, is throw a dart at it to figure out where we're going this time. Sometimes I wonder if Paine doesn't deliberately aim for Besaid – the dart holes seem to concentrate around that little island more than chance would dictate they should. I don't mind it much, though. The island has a calm feeling to it, completely opposite of Luca's bustle, and it's sort of fun playing with all the babies, especially since I can hand them back to their parents when the time comes for diaper changing. We can usually get Rikku to stop by and stay in one place for more than five minutes, which makes Gip happy as a clam. Nooj is the only one who gets annoyed – he says all the lovey-dovey nonsense makes his teeth hurt. I say watching my girlfriend play peek-a-boo with Yuna's baby girl makes it worth having to watch said child's parents being all cutesy. Paine loves it, though, I tend to go along with what makes her happy, and Gippal would follow Rikku around like a puppy if we let him, so Nooj gets outvoted and eventually heads back to the ship ranting about schlocky romantic bullshit and cloying domesticity. The rest of us just laugh – Nooj hasn't figured out that Wakka doesn't break out the good booze until after all the kids get put to bed. And of course, getting a few drinks into the girls makes the suggestion of strip poker go over a lot better, and Rikku in particular has a horrible poker face…but Nooj really doesn't need to know that.

We're not in Besaid right now, though. We're, well, we're in the middle of nowhere is where we are – the island southeast of Zanarkand that could have been made for us, it's so perfect. Nice flat spot on one side to land the ship on, lots of green things growing, a couple palm trees and the most perfect beach I've ever seen. As far as we can tell, it's been a couple hundred years since anyone else was here. At least, that's what Mister Machina Expert Gippal says – he spends most of his time digging in the sand like the little boy he'll always be. That's what we do when we're here, just mess around on the beach. Nooj wraps himself up in towels because he says he sunburns, puts on his dorky-looking sunglasses and pulls out something to read that has absolutely nothing to do with Youth League or spheres or politics or anything else that reminds him of work. Paine does a lot of laying around in that skimpy bikini – she never burns, somehow – and me, well, I do a lot of watching Paine lie around in that skimpy bikini. What? It's not my fault she's smoking hot.

And she needs to wake up and smack me right now, because I'm starting to sound like Gippal and that is not a good thing.

I trail my fingers over her stomach, her soft skin. There's still the thin, inch long scar just below her left breast – she says she doesn't think it'll ever fade completely. She's got a few others, though none of them have that kind of significance. There's the one on her leg that she's had since before I met her, a long line across her lower back that she got on one of our first Crimson Squad assignments, a lifetime ago, and a couple lines on her arm from her time with the Gullwings. I like her scars, actually – not so much in the "well, if that's what sparks you up" way that Gip jokes about when he thinks she can't hear him. I like them because they're part of who she is. I like her strength, her spikiness. I like that most people are at least a little bit afraid of her, and that I know the only reason they'd have to fear her is if they tried to hurt someone she loves. I like her sarcasm, I like her sharp sense of humor, and to be honest with myself, I like that she could wipe the floor with me any time she wanted to. She'll never be a housewife, but I'm fine with that. Despite what the Luca gossip rags still like to say, I never wanted a girl who'd be content to stay at home and cook me dinner and raise the kids and play house. I like my warrior woman just the way she is, thank you. And if nobody else can see how beautiful she is, so much the better – less competition for me to deal with.

Her eyes flicker open and she looks up at me with a sleepy smile. I love her eyes. I have fun making up comparisons for them, especially given that I swear they change color depending on her mood. Rubies when she's concentrating, bright like flower petals when she's having fun, blood-red when she's fighting, flames when she's mad - that sort of thing. Right now, they remind me more of good wine, dark and rich and warm. Her eyes are a good indicator of her mood, and that wine-dark glow translates directly to "warm and happy." I smile and kiss her forehead, snuggling down next to her.

"You really are beautiful, you know," I say, wrapping one arm around her waist. She smiles and threads her fingers through my hair.

"Only when I'm with you, Baralai," she murmurs drowsily. "Only when I'm with you."


End file.
